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My oldest son is an English teacher, which makes perfect
sense considering the genes he sprung from (sorry, son -- the genes from
which he sprung rather).
On the other hand, my second child is an IT guy about to
start a new job with Dell, which does not really compute to a guy who still thinks
what most malfunctioning computers need is a damn slap upside the monitor or a
kick to the tower.
On the other other hand, the English teacher and his wife
also are chicken farmers, which makes no plucking sense to this city kid.
My third child appears to be on her way to a career in
speech pathology, and the fourth, having been told by her guidance counselor
and at least one teacher she should consider marketing, has been trying ever
since to figure out what the hell marketing means. Not to worry, I say. My
experience is most people don't understand it, including plenty who practice it
successfully.
So, I come not here to unfurl the "Mission Accomplished"
banner in my most important job, for one is never done, but I do believe I've
done my best as a dad to this point. It appears all four will be contributing
members of society with reasonably good table manners and the understanding
they are not at the center of the universe.
In the interest of full disclosure, I should acknowledge
that two of the three who moved out are living back at home this summer, but
that's OK. This includes the IT guy – who’s way more useful to have under my
roof, though it pains me to admit it, than an English teacher.
I believe my children all are better human beings than I
am. I say that not with false modesty. I'll be the first to admit I'm a helluva
guy. But they're better. Perhaps their mother had something to do with this
too.
Are there things I would do differently if I had it to do
all over again? Oh, yes, too many to count. And do I fret and regret over my
failings sometimes? Oh yes. But not much anymore.
Are there problems, flaws in their lives they legitimately
can blame on me? Certainly. But all that will be between them and their
therapists some day.
I am content. I am complete.
How do I define a good day as a father? Any day that one
of my kids does something that makes me think, oh, yeah, that’s my kid all right,
and any day one does something that makes me say, where did THAT come from?
So far, that’s been every day of this adventure. About
9,490 of them..
So, no, not Mission Accomplished. Never. How about Mission
Enjoyed?
